Showing posts with label There's no telling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label There's no telling. Show all posts

The Nail of Fortitude

There is no knowing, these days, what will land inside my in-box at the Lodge...



Take this note from fellow member Matthew Hayden Atkinson, for instance:





I know, right?





The Quest del Saint Nail transformed the quest for the Holy Nail into a search for mystical union with God and made the pure knight Matthew Hayden Atkinson the Nail's ideal hero. Only Matthew was able to look directly into it and behold the divine mysteries that cannot be described by human tongue.





🙃 I kid my fellow club member. 🙂


Hello, is it me you're looking for?

Judging by the job description hereunder, you'd think that I'd be RAND Corporation's dream candidate for that position:



Am I qualified?



I am SUPERLATIVELY qualified!!!

The question is will they have me?

If I were RAND, I 'd snap me up in a second. No question about it.

But I am me, and RAND is RAND. So, there's no telling, really.

When it comes down to it, maybe the real question ought to be: would I have them?

Well, would I?

I do tend to take this sort of things very seriously.



Well, maybe not quite THAT seriously.

In any case, not SO seriously that I didn't go ahead and apply for the position. Working for a think tank, even if only as an Administrative Assistant, always had a certain appeal to me. Besides, I can use the money.

But the question still remains: what is it that RAND does, exactly? And what kinds of people do work there, anyway?



To be sure, RAND had nice things to say about himself:



Not everybody agrees:

The Rand Corporation: The Think Tank That Controls America

As is often the case, it all comes down to a matter of perspective, I suppose.

Does it matter?

Does it make any difference who one works for in the end?

Be it RAND Corporation...

Or Veridian Dynamics?



Navigating the Matrix

We may or may not be living in a Virtual Reality. But what difference does it make?

Reality is as reality does.

Even in a Virtual World, like in many of the world game constructs I have been playing, you still want to make good things happen.

Or, at least, I do.

It does differ from players to players.

It all depends, basically, on the kind of game one happens to be into.

Some are into destruction, and breaking the game, and playing bad ass evil characters who go on a killing spree massacring NPC and burning towns to the ground.

While I do understand the appeal (for some, those roles are just an opportunity to manifest their shadow; for others, it springs from a political/metaphysical "Lucifer Unchained" kind of anarchist manifestation of their revolt against the perceived injustice/authoritarian/arbitrariness of Order, i.e. "the powers that be," the hypocrisy and violence of society, and of God’s creation - Let’s face it many of mankind’s gods are assholes in their own rights, and the Judeo-Christian God of the Old Testament is no exception.)

Me? Call me a goodie Two-Shoes, I am more into making good things happen.

Which, takes me to this morning encounter, as I was exiting the train on my way to work today.

This cute little brunette approaches me, and says:

"Excuse me, can you help me with something?"

I thought, at first, that she was going to hit me for money. I was hit once, by a girl about the same age, at the local Donuts Shop near the station, as I was ordering some coffee and a chocolate donut. "Excuse me," she’d said. "Can you buy me an Apple Fritter?” The Clerk at the counter looked at me quizzically, and I just said "Give her an Apple Fritter." True Story!

In any case, the girl, this morning, just wanted directions. She had just gotten up the ramp looking for a train to take her to the Union Station and wanted to know if this was the right place and what train to take.

I obligingly pointed to the train I had just gotten out of, that was just departing, and told her that this would have been the one, but, not to worry, that another one, going the same direction, would be arriving soon enough. They have trains running every 5 to 10 minutes or so.

She then asked me, where she could purchase a ticket.

And I thought, Aha! this must be the part where she asks me for money.

I pointed to another set of stairs at the end of the dock, and told her to just follow me, that I would take her to where the ticket machines were.

"Are you French?" she asked.

I told her that I was.

As it turned out, she happened to be French, too.

"Je n’aurais jamais deviné," lui ai-je dit. "Vous n’avez pas le moindre accent français."

"Oh! Si! Si! Quand même un peu," m’a-t-elle répondu, un peu rougissante, mais visiblement flattée.

"Moi, cela fait des années que je vis aux States," ai-je ajouté. "Mais je parviens pas à me défaire de mon accent."

"On ne perd jamais son accent," a-t-elle commenté d’un ton léger.

Nous avons descendu les escaliers.

"Vous êtes étudiante?" lui ai-je demandé.

"Oui!" “A Irvine,” a-t-elle ajouté. "Et vous?" a-t-elle continué. "Vous travaillez ici?"

"Je travaille dans une fabrique de chocolat," lui ai-je répondu.

Je lui ai indiqué les machines au pied des escaliers, et lui ai demandé si elle savait s’en servir. Elle m’a répondu que oui.

"Parfait!" me-suis-je exclamé.

Je lui ai souhaité une bonne journée.

"Vous de même," a-t-elle répondu.

Puis, nous nous nous sommes dit au-revoir.

She didn’t ask me for any money.

Who was that mysterious woman? And what was the meaning of her manifesting in the Matrix at this point in time?

There is no knowing...






Was there any meaning to this?

Whatever the case may be, it did cause me to think.

Granted, it doesn’t take me much to think about almost anything, even the most trivial of things, those days. As a matter of fact, most people do it all the time. But I do find significance in the most mundane things.

And it got me reflecting on the kind of people we have been associating with, lately. And I thought how smoothly spontaneous and easy and unstressful that exchange with that young woman had been.

Although, we were total strangers in the middle of a crowd, there was between us a level of familiarity and recognition that one normally only experiences with people one has known for some time.

And, I thought to myself, "She is one of my tribe." And, I didn’t just mean the fact that she was French, though that probably did help somewhat, as it most certainly causes us to have many things in common, genetically, historically and culturally, but I was also referring to that certain je ne sais quoi, of which the psychological make-up of individual personalities is made. (I do not get along with all French people, but I do get along with some French people.) My thought was, she is not just one of my tribe, but she’s also one of my kind. And, before you ask, there was nothing sexual about it, the thought didn’t even enter my mind (which is interesting, in itself, considering I am a male, and, as you know, it is a well-recognized fact — Or myth? I’ll just have to take the fifth on that one — that men think about sex all the time) the attraction was not one of sex-appeal, but one of heart-mind affinity.

As I have been feeling a wee bit alienated from the Groupthink mind of some of the people I work with at the chocolate factory, of late, and even from some of the uncouth friends (I won’t name any names) we congregate with around St. Patrick's, this came as the most perfect kind of remedy I needed, at the most perfect time.

This takes us back to the topic of this post: "Navigating the Matrix."

There is a reason one may at times feel like a stranger in a strange land.

As Attanasio poetically put it "The brain is a flower that eats oxygen, but where are its roots?"

Holiday Mathis has it right:



Wherever "there" is.

If there is anything to be learned from my morning train encounter, is that, whether we live in a Matrix, or not, we are not alone.

One lesson I certainly have learned from RPG is: Characters Count.

That girl, this morning, I was sad to let her go. And I could tell that the feeling was mutual. We should have exchanged cards or something. But it all went too fast and the circumstances weren't right.

Whodunit (The mysterious case of the missing bottles of wine)

Was it you, Sam?



Or did the box just simply vanish in one of the many hidden pocket dimensions of the house?



There is no telling...




Perhaps the Fair Folk did it?

Everybody Needs a Break

Hiking a date to the movies tonight.



Kingsman: The Secret Service is playing at 8:10pm

It should give us plenty of time for a bite to eat and a drink.



Or something or another...

God save us all!

Is it bad that I just ordered the third volume in the series?



It's a rather curious thing. It's not like the story is all that good, really. And neither is the writing.

But, for some reason, I am strangely addicted to it.



(It's not all that bad either, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be reading it, I suppose. So, there must be something to it.)

It could be that the main character reminds me of someone I know.

Werewolves gathering on Sunday 2/16/2014



I'll do my very best to attend, but chances are that D and I are going to be out of town that weekend—on account of Presidents'Day.



For those of you who think you might make it, let me know and I'll put you in touch with the MC in charge of the event.

Trust the NSA

     

Warning! The following is Security Clearance ULTRAVIOLET! If you are of lower clearance and read any further it will be considered treason, and you will be executed! Have a fantastic day!

God Doesn't Play Dice

And neither do apes, sir.

We do play cards, however!



Why, there is that study out there. It says that chimpanzees not only get very close to the human sense of fairness (insert laugh track), but, as it turns out, we may actually have exactly the same preferences as your own species.

It's still all a matter of conjunctures and opinions, of course.

They say that She's a gambler, you know...

I mean, God.

Me? Why, I would never presume.

It is not my place to speculate, sir.

The way I heard it:



In any case, this strikes me like as good a time as any to inquire...if the gentleman or the gentlelady do not mind my asking, that is.

I am talking POKER NIGHT!

Have the gentlemen or the gentleladies given any thought yet as to what would constitute a proper day of the week, and time?

The games would take place at the usual place.

And, as usual, there would be food, of course.

Go Figure

I wanted a sonic screwdriver for Christmas...



But I got this instead:




Things happen for a reason, I suppose.

Or do they?